


Well you know how it is with me, baby

by BrilliantlyHorrid



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: And also Rosalind, Creepy therapists, Daisy hates therapy, F/M, Marriage Counseling, Minor sexual harassment implied, Not Rosalind Price friendly, Phil Coulson is a baby deer, Phil and Daisy need to talk things out, Post 3x07, Skye | Daisy Johnson Feels, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 22:06:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5222702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrilliantlyHorrid/pseuds/BrilliantlyHorrid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daisy and Coulson have to go undercover at a couple's therapy session. Daisy is working on a few personal issues. Phil has no idea what he's doing. (Same old, same old.)</p><p>---<br/>“You know,” Hunter began, “the thing about marriage counseling is that you’re supposed to not like each other.” Phil raised an eyebrow. “I’m just saying. You’re not taking my advice, but if you and Daisy go in there all tag-team, in sync buddy-buddy, the guy is going to know something is up."</p><p>Buddy-buddy? He and Daisy were not buddies.</p><p>Especially lately.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Well you know how it is with me, baby

**Author's Note:**

> Marriage counseling story! Originally this was not going to be related to 3x07 at all, but OOPS. 
> 
> Title is from "Guilty" by Madeleine Peyroux

“Want some advice?” Hunter asked, watching Coulson grab his jacket from the back of his chair.

“No, no I do not,” Phil replied, but Hunter didn’t seem to hear him.

“Don’t give him _anything_. The trick to couple’s therapy is keeping your cards as close to your chest as possible. He’s the therapist, let him figure it out,” he preached, for some reason sipping a beer at 11 am. On a week day.

“Thank you for that, that explains a lot actually,” Coulson said, rolling his eyes.

“Tell me about it,” Mack muttered, while Hunter looked between the two of them, offended. He and Bobbi had almost, _almost_ been selected for this mission, but the point of undercover was to mirror reality, not recreate it. A fake identity was meant to be _fake_. It was too risky, and Hunter was too emotional and rash and hotheaded, he would probably ruin the whole thing.

So Coulson and Daisy were going.

It had actually been Bobbi’s idea, with May backing her. Having a powered person on the mission would be helpful for both drawing this guy out, and it couldn't hurt having a little firepower handy if it was in fact their guy. Not to mention Coulson was a profiler, and good at remaining undercover under pressure.

(May had refused for various, very understandable reasons, and although Bobbi was a prime candidate as well, she preferred to sit this one out.)

“You know,” Hunter began, and Mack and Coulson shared an exasperated look. “The thing about marriage counseling is that you’re supposed to _not_ like each other.” Phil raised an eyebrow. “I’m just saying. You’re not taking my advice, but if you and Daisy go in there all tag-team, in sync buddy-buddy, the guy is going to know something is up."

Buddy-buddy? He and Daisy were not _buddies_.

_Especially lately._

“We’ll be fine,” Coulson said dismissively, making sure his mic was discreetly in place. “We’ve worked on our covers, we have a plan.” And they did. Both tactically-minded, they had come up with a decent cover for each of them, hopefully one that would explain not only why they were together in the first place (he wasn’t naive,) but why they were having _issues_.

At the sound of heels clicking outside his door, Phil’s head shot up. Rosalind wasn’t supposed to be back for a few minutes; she’d called from the way back to the Playground. His door opened, and Daisy walked in.

“Seriously?” Phil asked, crossing his arms (real and the new lifelike prosthetic) in front of him. Mack looked between the two of them awkwardly, and Hunter looked like a kid on Christmas morning.

“What?” She asked, running a hand through her sleek, straightened hair.

 _I see what you’re doing,_ was the face Coulson sent her, although he wasn’t actually sure he knew what her goal was. “You do know this is a therapy session, not a board meeting,” he said instead, and Daisy shrugged, removing the expensive-looking black blazer. Staring at her crisp white shirt, probably the least-wrinkled item he’d ever seen her wear, Coulson frowned. “I thought we agreed you were supposed to be a grad student,” he said. “Kind of flashy, don’t you think?”

“I was actually going to ask you about that, actually,” she said, striding over to his desk. Coulson looked over to Mack and Hunter, who exited the office quickly. “I think we should reconsider the cover.” Looking over at him, she smirked. “Nice glasses though, _Prof_.”

Coulson took them off and tucked them into his pocket. “Why a new cover?”

Daisy sat back on his desk, and Phil wondered if maybe he was being paranoid, maybe her extra-coiffed appearance was genuinely for the mission, not a personal dig. But it was...kind of creepy.

“I was just thinking about it, and this guy is hard enough to get an initial appointment with, let alone a spot on his retreat. He’s particular, and goes for cases that interest him. I just think the professor-student angle is a little too cliched, he’ll want a challenge.”

It was admittedly difficult getting Daisy on board in the first place, considering her feelings about therapy. But on the promise that she would be going as someone completely unlike herself ( _mission accomplished_ ) and the fact that they were hopefully going to bust one of that bad ones, she accepted.

And she was making a fair point now, Phil thought, appreciating her enthusiasm at least. The original cover explained the obvious age difference, and alluded to obvious issues that could arise from such a marriage, but maybe that was it. It was too _obvious_.

“So what are you thinking?” He asked, wondering if she had done her makeup differently as well.

“Pharmaceutical rep,” she said, and Phil nodded. It explained the clothes. “Young, motivated, slightly inflated sense of self-importance. Getting my own disposable income at a relatively young age has left me disappointed and frustrated with your own lack of motivation,” Daisy explained. Phil stared at her. “ _Paul_.” She corrected, smiling.

“How did we meet?”

“Hotel bar,” she said smoothly. “You were presenting at an academic conference, I was at a company sales meeting.”

“Sounds good,” he admitted, handing her her own mic, which she tucked into the front of her blouse. He looked over at his desk to see if he’d forgotten anything.

“Ready to go?” Daisy asked, heading for the door. He stared at her outfit, her posture, the whole _thing_. There was no way it wasn’t intentional, right?”

“Daisy,” he said, gesturing at her new look.

Her eyes widened innocently. “What? I thought this might make things easier for you,” she said, walking out the door.

Nope, not an accident at all.

 

The two walked out to the garage, garnering no small number of entertained looks along the way (he wondered if Hunter spread the word) and of course, of _course_ they were met with a very confused Rosalind as she arrived back.

“Hey there,” she said, in that way that was kind of amused, but not really. It was odd, because Daisy wasn’t a very tall girl to begin with, but with both of them in heels she practically towered over Rosalind. (Who was--admittedly-- very small, despite her looming presence. He’d asked her how she managed it, to seem so imposing, but it was _classified_. And Phil was beginning to see why people got so irritated with him for saying that.)

“I’ll go start the car,” Daisy said breezily, sauntering toward the garage.

Watching her go, Rosalind tilted her head. “So that’s...interesting,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“I think that’s Daisy being funny,” Phil said, giving her a strained smile. It wasn’t fair of him to ask them to get along, and it wasn’t as though they were outright uncivil to each other, but things were...tense.

“Cute,” Rosalind said, meaning anything but. “Any chance you can tell me what the mission is?” Phil gave her an apologetic smile. “Of course,” she said, looking not-at-all surprised.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

Walking into the garage, Phil saw Daisy putting the key in Lola’s ignition.

“No,” he said, loud enough for her to hear. Her head shot up. “Absolutely not.”

***

Phil was agitated. Yes, he’d known to a degree that Daisy was not happy about the Rosalind Situation. Even after they cleared the ATCU, things were frosty between the two women, and even his and Daisy’s relationship seemed to get dialed back. Which, for the sake of SHIELD, couldn’t be the worst thing. When he mentioned he was able to turn off personal feelings when it came to work, the obvious omission was, well, standing right in front of him.

But this was just ridiculous.

From the outfit, to the mannerisms, to the slight digs throughout the session, Daisy seemed to be making it her mission to get on his last nerve. Was it the therapy part, he wondered? Was she not as willing to join in as she claimed? _She could have just said as much_. He didn’t take her to be the petty type. Playful, yes.

Her impression, if that’s what it was, wasn’t cruel, and it wasn’t as though she spent the entire time in character as Rosalind. ( _She doesn’t even know her well enough to do that_ , he thought.) But the slight glower, the subtle checks of her cell, and the snide remarks...they had gotten to him.

 _You’re going to throw this mission_ , he’d thought, disbelievingly as she cracked a joke about him _‘settling and not recognizing he can do better. At work,_ ’ of course. It was just so unlike her, even with things as they were. Yes, the ATCU and Rosalind herself had come in with some pretty unfortunate ideas about Inhumans. But things were improving, why was it still bothering her so much?

But miraculously, the doctor seemed interested in their case.

The man himself looked fairly nondescript. Not much older than himself, with a slightly wolfish appearance that put Phil off a bit. His clothes hinted at a large income. _Larger than that of a big-name psychologist?_ Maybe. But maybe he came from money. Which actually didn’t work much in his favor; it was Hydra’s demographic of choice, wasn’t it?

“Well, I think we certainly have a lot to work on,” Dr. Melrose said, closing his notebook. “In fact, I think you two might benefit from another program I’ve spearheaded.”

“Program?” Coulson asked, curious but on edge. _Don’t blow it_. Luckily, it was in character today to be skeptical.

“A retreat,” Melrose explained, “for couples who I think could use a little...extra attention.”

Daisy-- _Rebecca_ \-- snorted, and the doctor raised an eyebrow at her. “It’s not easy, but if you’re up for it...It does require you focus solely on the retreat itself, the sessions. No _work_ ,” he said, eyeing her hand that was poised to reach for her phone.

Daisy sighed, tilting her head in consideration. “A couple days focusing on myself, and not on advancing my career?” She asked, and the doctor nodded. “Shouldn’t be too hard,” she said, side-eyeing ‘Paul.’ “You do that all the time, right?”

Phil sent her a tight smile.

“Excellent,” Melrose said, placing his hands on the arms of his leather chair. “I would like to do one-on-one sessions with each of you next week before scheduling a visit to the retreat, do you want to book those with Alexa out front?”

Daisy looked at Phil, skeptically. “Are you up for it?” She asked. He rolled his eyes and sighed.

“If you are, there’s no reason I shouldn’t be.”

***

He debated bringing it up the entire drive back, which was otherwise silent. Daisy tapped away at her phone while he drove. Presumably sending information to Mack, or maybe tapping into the bugs she’d set in his office and reception.

Or maybe making fun of him, which seemed to be her favorite thing to do, lately.

Pulling into the garage, Coulson turned off the ignition. As Daisy reached to open her door, he leaned over and pulled it shut.

“Do you want to explain what you’re playing at?” He asked, feeling his neck grow hot. Daisy’s brows furrowed, but not in confusion. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“My job,” she said defiantly, staring him down.

“Do you think this is cute?” He asked her, gesturing to her...everything. The attitude, the hair, the outfit. _The damn shoes._

Daisy scoffed. “No, I think it’s pissing you off.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Then I’m doing my job,” she said matter-of-factly. Coulson wanted to tear his own hair out.

“What are you talking about?”

“Phil, it’s couple’s therapy, we’re supposed to hate each other.”

_What?_

Apparently seeing his look of confusion, she sighed. “Look, I hate to break it to you, but preparing for this mission was...a problem. I bet you’re usually great at the undercover thing, but every exercise we did, every argument and pressure point we planned felt...fake.” She shrugged. “May and Bobbi agreed, there was no way that guy wouldn’t suspect something was up if you seemed like you were just...pretending to be frustrated with me.”

“So you _were_ provoking me. For the mission.”

Daisy nodded. “Sorry, but it worked. We’re in.”

 _‘The thing about marriage counseling is that you’re supposed to_ not _like each other.’_

He couldn’t even _pretend_ to be angry with Daisy, could he?

“Do you think he saw your ‘ _slip up,_ ’” he asked instead, changing the subject. He’d almost missed it, but in a particularly heated moment it happened. It was subtle, but the tilted frame on the wall was a nice touch.

“I think so,” Daisy said. “If he’s Hydra’s new Inhuman analyst, he won’t pass up on looking into that.” She cracked her neck loudly. “Or he believes we’re just _that_ fucked up,” she muttered. “Can I--?” She asked, gesturing toward the door, and Phil nodded.

_But--_

“Hold on,” he called as she opened the car door. Daisy paused. “You didn’t seem to have any problems pretending to be frustrated with _me_ ,” he recalled. In fact, through his annoyance he’d been impressed with her ability to look genuinely pissed off.

Daisy just smiled and stepped out of the car, shutting the door behind her. From the driver’s seat, Coulson watched her bend down to take off the heels, and continue barefoot through the garage.

***

In the waiting room the following week, Phil kept looking over at Daisy, who seemed engrossed in her phone. She thankfully looked more like herself this time around with her hair in slight waves, though the outfit was still more professional than her usual attire. Consistency was good, though.

“Something I can help you with?” She asked, not looking up from her screen. Phil looked over at the secretary who didn’t look to be paying much attention to them. _Still in character, or…?_ He thought wryly as Daisy somewhat-ignored him.

“No,” he replied, taking out his own phone. Daisy frowned slightly but didn’t move her gaze. A creaking sound from across the room announced Dr. Melrose’s arrival, and Phil looked up.

“Paul, Rebecca,” he said, and Phil noticed he’d refrained from referring to them as ‘Mr. and Mrs.’ throughout the experience. Even as they booked the appointments. It must have been a counseling thing.

“Doctor,” Phil greeted him. Daisy looked up briefly, sending him a curt smile. Phil couldn’t help the quirk of his lips as he saw it now, it was kind of amusing.

“So, we’ll be doing one-on-ones today, any preference on order here?” The doctor asked, and Phil looked over at Daisy.

“Ladies first?” He offered, only slightly sarcastic. Not looking up, Daisy waved him away.

“No I’m good, you go,” she said, looking very busy and important. Phil rolled his eyes so the doctor could see.

But he was beginning to _really_ see her point. He couldn’t pretend to be annoyed very well, could he? Not now that he knew what she was doing.

“Well, I’m all yours,” Phil said shrugging. For some reason, maybe because he thought it would be funny, he placed a hand on Daisy’s knee as he stood. He didn’t look, but he could have sworn he saw her head dart up and feel her eyes follow him as he stepped into the office.

 

“I know it may not seem like it, but you and Rebecca are in a real enviable place compared to a lot of couples,” Dr. Melrose said, and Phil’s eyebrows shot up. They had just been talking for the last 10 minutes about the various problems ‘Paul and Rebecca’ were having, including a few Paul might not have wanted to mention in front of his wife. That was, after all, what Phil supposed these private sessions were for.

And they were in a _good_ place?

“How so?” Phil ask, brow furrowed, and Melrose leaned back in his chair.

“Well, by the time a lot of couples make it to this phase, the writing may already be on the wall,” the man admitted. “I’m glad you decided to take this step, because it shows that you both care about making it work.” Phil waited for him to continue. Seeing his confusion, the doctor smiled. “It’s clear to me, although you may not realize it all the time, that you and your wife are still very much in love with each other, Paul,” he said, looking at him encouragingly.

“Huh.”

 

About 30 minutes later Phil was in the waiting room, watching Daisy step out of the room. Following behind her, Dr. Melrose smiled at them both.

“I look forward to seeing the two of you on Sunday,” he said, and they waved their farewells. Walking out to the car, Phil could see that Daisy looked agitated.

“We probably won’t have to do the full week,” he said reassuringly as they both got in. “Hopefully we’ll be able to get enough information in the first day or two. Especially since it will just be the three of us in the house, he’s got to have something stored there. One of us will just find some time to get away--”

“We might not have to go at all, actually,” Daisy interrupted, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. Phil frowned. Was she dreading it that much? It was maybe a little selfish, but apart from the mandatory therapy sessions, Phil had hoped some time away from the base might allow them to talk out some of the issues they hadn’t been discussing lately due to...certain elements.

(Yes, Phil realized he was considering using fake couple’s therapy for actual friendship/co-worker therapy. No, it wasn’t entirely professional of him.)

“Dr. Melrose has a... _thing_.” Daisy said. Phil stared at her.

“A thing?”

She nodded. “A- a thing for-- I’m pretty sure he has a thing for powerful women.”

 _Well he’s far from the first._ “I’m not sure what this has to do with--”

“No, Coulson. Powerful-- _powered_ women. He has like, a superhero fetish or something.”

Coulson sat back in his seat. “How do you--”

“He showed me this book of like, newspaper clippings. That Maximoff woman, a couple Inhumans we looked into-- he even has Hannah Hutchins in there, remember her?”

“He didn’t show that to me,” Coulson said flatly, beginning to feel uneasy. “Do you think he’s still working with Ward, or the Inhuman women he’s been working with are just for his own--” He shook his head. “Wait, did he--”

“He made me an... _offer_.” Daisy said carefully, and the car suddenly felt very quiet. “For dinner.”

Phil looked ahead, hands on the steering wheel. _Oh, he’s ‘so glad’ we’re making it work._ “He’s asking one of his marriage counseling clients out to dinner?” Phil scoffed.

“At his house.”

“Absolutely not,” Coulson said, shaking his head.

“Hear me out--”

“Daisy,” he argued, looking over at her in the passenger seat, unable to process that she was even considering-- “out of the question.”

“Coulson, if I get in his apartment I can snoop, or plant a couple bugs, or maybe he’ll even just say something, he does _not_ keep his cards very close to his chest.” She said incredulously, and although Coulson was beginning to see her reasoning, he didn’t like it.

He thought about Dr. Melrose, and his beady little eyes and his stupid little goatee that made him look like Phil's old criminology professor from the Academy. Hell, maybe the teacher and grad student thing would have interested him after all.

“He knows about your powers?” He asked, and Daisy tilted her head.

“Sort of, he thinks it’s telekinesis.” At Phil’s look, she shrugged her shoulders. “What, you think I was going to tell him I control _vibrations_? He probably would have j--”

“Okay,” Phil interrupted hastily, and Daisy rolled her eyes. “Are you sure you’re comfortable with this?” He asked her seriously, and he saw her consider his question.

“Will you be on comms with me?” She asked, and he nodded. “I’ll give him a call.”

***

Phil banged the back of his head against the head rest. This _tool_ had been talking to Daisy about wine for the past 10 minutes and it was all. So. _Wrong_. And apparently he made her gnocchi because what else is a sleazy psychologist getting hush money from Hydra going to do with his Friday afternoon besides make pasta from scratch to impress a married woman?

He had been in the car for a long time.

Listening to Rebecca laugh at Dr. Melrose-- _Frank’s_ \-- jokes.

_Dumb name._

Him giving her the tour of his ridiculous home--showing her the master bath because he _just_ got it renovated, _conveniently_ having to walk her through the bedroom. _Subtle_.

To be fair, in this situation, Rebecca was a woman clearly at least tangentially interested in cheating on her estranged husband. But something about this guy just bothered Phil. He thought about the little ‘scrapbook’ Daisy had described, grimacing.

Was it all an act? The desire to help them, the--as far as an unmarried man could tell-- decent advice he had given?

His...observation about the two of them? Maybe that was his schtick. Get the husband feeling all confident and wanted, then swoop in for the disgruntled wife. And he had played right into it.

 _If it gets us the intel_...he reminded himself, giving a little sigh of relief when Daisy asked to be excused for a minute. She was going to plant the bug, he realized, hearing her shuffle around on carpeted floors. Quick steps into an echoing room and a whispered “One,” let him know she had planted the first bug.

Daisy audibly paced through the bathroom, flushing a toilet and running the faucet --protocol demanded shutting off comms during an _actual_ trip to the bathroom, thank god-- then walking back down the hall. Phil leaned forward in his seat. The good doctor had put on some music while she was away.

 _This guy_ , he thought, groaning. Through the comms, he heard Daisy sigh. “Hang in there,” he said encouragingly, and got no response. He heard Frank offer her a glass of wine, resisting a reminder to _under no circumstances accept it if she didn’t see him open the bottle_ because Daisy was a field agent, not a college student. She could handle herself.

Dr. Melrose proposed a relocation to the _lounge_ , and Phil tried to stop rolling his eyes so hard. He might sprain something.

 _“So, you and Paul,”_ he began and Phil perked up.

“ _Hm?_ ” Daisy asked, and he could hear her voice echo through a wineglass.

 _“How did_ that _happen_?”

Daisy began to explain the story of the hotel bar, yet again, but was interrupted. _“No, I mean, you’re…”_ he trailed off, and Phil really, really would have preferred not sitting alone in the car at that moment. Maybe take a walk outside, up to the front door so he could ring the bell excessively claiming to be from the cable company or something. Or maybe pull out the classic cuckolded husband act, bang on the door and yell and maybe throw a punch or two. That would be fun, but not incredibly productive.

_But this guy is the worst._

_“And he’s…”_

_“Not terrible,”_ Daisy said, some humor in her voice.

 _Gee thanks for the solid defense_ , Phil thought sourly. On _Paul’s_ behalf, since he was _not real_ and therefore unable to defend himself.

 _“But you, the things you’re capable of…_ ” His tone made Phil squirm, and he immediately felt bad for Daisy. Sure. She volunteered, practically demanded to go, but few things could prepare you for being face-to-face with a creep and pretending it doesn’t bother you.

Phil got an unwelcome feeling of deja vu at that. After all, this wasn’t the first time Daisy was having to pull off this charade.

He really wanted to call it off.

 _“You have no idea,”_ Daisy said, and Phil let out a surprised chuckle.

_Maybe I should feel bad for Frank._

But Frank didn’t seem to pick up on Daisy’s dangerous tone. In fact, he seemed to completely miss it. _“You know, there’s someone I’ve been working with recently, on sort of a side project,”_ he began, and Coulson knew it. They had him.

_“Oh?”_

_“I think he would love to meet someone like you.”_

“How do you feel?” Phil asked Daisy, who was approaching him as he waited by the car.

“You know, it’s not as satisfying to threaten someone with your powers when you know that they’ll _like_ it,” she said, grimacing. Coulson put a hand on her shoulder.

“Your sacrifices were not in vain,” he told her jokingly, earning a small smile in return. The second Melrose explained his burgeoning partnership with Ward, Coulson called in backup. Daisy kept the guy talking long enough to fully incriminate himself, so as soon as they could, Mack, Bobbi and Phil swooped in. They found Daisy standing over Frank with her foot on his back; apparently in the short time between them leaving the car and entering the front door, he had made an ill-advised advance.

“I’ll take it from here, Tremors,” Mack told her, and Daisy and Coulson had swept the rest of the house. There two bugs apart from her own, in the office and bedroom. They weren’t sure if Ward knew her voice out of context, but if he came after them it was his funeral.

Looking over to the door, they saw Mack and Bobbi escorting Frank. “You want us to take him back or do you want the honors?” Bobbi asked.

“Oh he is _so_ _beyond_ all yours,” Daisy replied, and the three of them were off.

Phil opened the passenger side door, and Daisy climbed in. “Thanks dear,” she said sarcastically, and he frowned.

“That wasn’t for you,” he said, and her eyebrows shot up. “You’re driving.”

“Um, I just went above and beyond the call of duty to catch that guy,” Daisy argued. She pointed at her feet. “Look at these shoes, Phil. Do you have any idea how terrible it is to wear these shoes?”

“I do not,” Phil relented, closing the door behind her. As he sat in the driver’s seat, he saw Daisy look around.

“How was it? Getting to listen in here all night?” She eyed the empty, crumpled wrappers sitting in the cup holders. And on the floor. “Did you have the munchies?”

“It was miserable,” Coulson admitted, and Daisy looked amused. “The way he talked to you…” Her smile dropped.

“I can handle myself,” she said, looking out the window at the empty house.

“I know that,” he replied, and he did. “It just--”

“It’s not fun hearing someone you care about be disrespected,” she said, and he didn’t miss the meaning.

“Daisy--”

“It’s not fun but sometimes you just have to suck it up and deal with it because they’re adults who make their own choices,” she continued, her voice getting heavier with every word. Phil closed his eyes tightly. “Even if you know it’s the wrong one, and you feel like maybe you could have done something--”

“Daisy,” he pleaded, not sure what he was asking.

“But you didn’t, and you just have to live with that,” she finished hollowly.

Phil didn’t have to look over at her to know that she was crying. He’d seen it, heard it, far too many times. And it was his fault this time, he was hurting her and he didn’t know why or how to stop it.

“What can I do?” He asked sadly, and saw Daisy wipe roughly at her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Just take me home.”

***

After watching Daisy walk away from him yet again, Phil decided to go up to his office instead of his bunk. He wasn’t sure sleep was going to come easy that night. Honestly, Phil was at a loss. He knew his relationship with Rosalind was troubling to Daisy, but the way she spoke about it earlier that night…

He had a lot to think about. Grabbing a bottle of scotch and sitting in front of his computer, Coulson pulled up their recordings from the therapy sessions. Rather than listen in on each others’ one-on-one sessions, they simply recorded the audio in case anything incriminating came up. Apart from the doctor’s proposition, nothing else seemed of value, so he hadn’t listened.

In the mood to torture himself, Phil hit play on _Rebecca’s_ session.

A lot of it was her surly act, if it _was_ an act, but an exchange a few minutes in gave him pause.

 _“I think the retreat will do you good, a lot of couples at this point have already given up,”_ the doctor said, mimicking his sentiments from Phil’s session.

 _“Who’s saying we haven’t?”_ Daisy retorted, and Phil winced.

_“Have you?”_

Daisy took a long pause, and Phil found himself waiting on the edge of his seat.

 _“I’m starting to think I should,_ ” she answered quietly.

 _But she doesn’t trust therapists_ , he reminded himself. _This is her in character, that’s all. She was making Rebecca vulnerable, that was all._

_“At least go on the retreat. The way your husband looks at you--”_

_“He’s not looking at me.”_

Phil paused the audio, drained his glass and walked straight to Daisy’s room.

“You and I are going to talk about this right now,” he said when she opened the door, walking past her.

“Oh good,” Daisy muttered, closing the door behind him. She had already changed into her pajamas, and her tired face had recently been scrubbed of the evening’s makeup.

“Do you have any idea how important you are to me?” He asked, and saw Daisy’s eyes widen. It was an odd note to open on, but listening to the tape, something had fallen into place.

_‘He’s not looking at me.’_

He was _always_ looking at her. He could barely take his eyes off her at most times, and even then it was a conscious effort. And yet here she was, acting as though she didn’t matter to him. Is that what she thought?

“Coulson, what is going on?”

“I know that our experience with the ATCU hasn’t been an easy one,” he said, and could see her eyes harden slightly. But there was something else he saw there. Defeat. “They came in and their strategy for Inhumans was flawed.”

“No kidding,” she shot back.

“And Rosalind didn’t give you the respect you deserve,” he continued.

“Or you,” Daisy added, crossing her arms. “She said things to you that--”

 _That you would never say,_ he finished to himself as she trailed off.

“Is that all?” He asked, and he saw a look of confusion cloud her face.

“What?”

“Are those the only reasons you don’t approve of the relationship?” He had never spelled it out as clearly as that, and it felt a little jarring to be honest. Acknowledging that Daisy was unhappy that he was with Rosalind...he had tried to avoid it. Possibly because of this, because of the questions it brought with it.

Questions that he previously didn’t think he’d like the answers to.

Her silence seemed to stretch on forever, and Phil wondered if he had miscalculated yet again.

“No,” she finally answered, quiet.

“Oh,” he said.

Daisy’s head shot up. “ _Oh_? That’s it? _Oh_?”

“I just--”

“You come busting in here after, yeah, a _really_ long day, and remind me of the fact that not only are you with Dragon Lady, but of all the reasons why I hate it, and you basically ask me to throw it all out there and admit that part of it is that you chose her over me, after _everything_ we’ve been through together, and all you have to say is ‘ _oh_?’”

Her eyes were practically flashing with anger, and her voice had grown to a volume that he should probably be concerned about, but Phil was still reeling a bit. Saying he ‘chose’ Rosalind over Daisy...that implied that it was a _choice_. That Daisy had been an option.

“I didn’t think I was in a position to choose,” he said softly, and Daisy blinked hard before walking over to him and grabbing his collar.

“You’re so stupid,” she muttered angrily, tugging him down until his lips were on hers. Phil responded immediately, wrapping both arms around her waist and crushing her to him. Daisy was all high energy and fierceness and _teeth_ just like he had wondered about and never could have imagined.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, pulling her impossibly closer and burying his face in her neck. “If I had _any_ idea…” He pressed his lips to her pulse point and felt her fingers dig into his shirt.

“You should be sorry,” she answered, pushing him back a bit so she could look at his face. “I don’t like being angry with you,” Daisy said, pressing a hand against his cheek. He turned his face so he could kiss her palm.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated. All this time he had been making her miserable. Miserable with worry, for him and for Inhumans. And herself. Daisy, the least selfish person he’d ever met, having to grapple with her own reasons for resenting the relationship.

“All I want is for you to be happy,” she said, and Phil felt like an asshole. “And if I thought that she could make you happy, I wouldn’t have--” She winced. “Look, maybe she’s a good person. Deep, deep, deep, _deep_ down…” she began, and Phil let out a guilty laugh.

 _I need to…_ He needed to address that. He wasn’t _that guy._

 _He says, in the bunk of the woman he is pretty sure he is in love with while the woman he’s seeing probably wonders why he hasn’t called yet_...he grimaced.

“I should…” he began, but saw the flash of panic in her eyes, which was quickly quelled. But not quickly enough. “I’ll come back,” Phil told her, rubbing a reassuring hand down her arm. “I have to...explain, first, but I’ll come back.”

“Tonight?” She asked hopefully, and Phil raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“You want me back here tonight,” he clarified, just to be sure of what she was asking. Daisy nodded enthusiastically.

“It’s been kind of...rough, these past few weeks,” she admitted, looking at the floor before meeting his eyes. “If it’s okay with you, I’d prefer to be done with the whole ‘pining’ phase.” Phil nodded, considering what she was saying there. It kind of blew his mind, the idea that someone would spend much time wanting _him_ , but Daisy wasn’t the type to exaggerate.

“I mean, we don’t have to _do_ anything, if that’s too soon,” she said quickly, flattening her hands over his chest as if to smooth out any tawdry wrinkles she might have formed in his shirt. “I didn’t mean to climb all over you or anything, but--”

“No, I get it,” Coulson said, voice nearly cracking. “Let me just--” he looked to the door, then back at her. “I have to--”

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “Take your time.” Daisy took a step back. “I mean, not _too much_ time, but--”

“Yeah.” Phil felt a stupidly large grin begin to form on his face, but he tried to rein it in. He was about to go break up with someone. It was going to be bad. He had done a very bad thing he’d have to admit to.

“See you soon,” Daisy said, though, and the smile wasn’t gone for long. “And Phil? I’m not one to normally suggest phone breakups, but--”

“I’ll work on it,” he said, trying to remember to be an adult, and to recognize the gravity of what he was about to do. Then Daisy climbed under her covers and _god_ it just looked so comfortable he couldn’t wait until he was back and could crawl under there with her.

“Hurry back,” she said cheekily as he opened the door.

“You have no idea.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> It's not nice to be gleeful at the idea of Phil breaking up with someone.  
> But  
> Come on.


End file.
